Two Steps Forward, One Step Back
by Phoenix Boy
Summary: After Nationals, it's time to move on. Yukimura isn't finding it easy.


* * *

When Echizen's last shot passed him, Seiichi's eyes widened in disbelief. A shot like that couldn't be possible. It wasn't possible that he could have lost, that Rikkai could have lost.

"Game set, won by Echizen 6-4!" the umpire called.

He had failed. He watched as the Seigaku players flooded onto the court, burying Echizen within a mass of white and blue.

His legs were trembling but he forced himself to stand there at the net, waiting while Seigaku celebrated. Eventually, Echizen came to him, with a smirk on his face that Seiichi itched to remove. Nevertheless, he shook Echizen's hand.

Seiichi stood at the net for a while after that. He could see Atobe in the back of the stands, watching the scene with a grim face. He remembered Renji telling him that Atobe had fallen to Seigaku's Echizen, back in the quarter finals, and being surprised by it. He wasn't any longer. Echizen's style looked more chaotic than it was - his eyes had the same fire and surety as Tezuka's, all the passion but with none of the restraint.

Tezuka had lost in this final, though. Sanada always had claimed that he would beat him the next time he played and somehow Seiichi had never quite believed him. After all, Tezuka was an incredible player himself. Sanada had paid back that defeat from three years ago.

Seiichi finally turned. The Rikkai side of the stands were bustling with activity as they packed up and prepared to leave. Sanada himself was at the centre of it, marshalling the other club members to gather up their belongings. Already, the first of the cheerleading squad were making their way to the bus.

The other regulars were more subdued. Niou and Yagyuu were sitting together, Jackal was watching Bunta polish off what was surely the last of his food and Akaya was sitting on the coach's bench, moping. Renji himself was simply watching Seiichi.

He pulled himself together and made his way over. Renji met him halfway, slipping a discreet hand under his elbow. Seiichi didn't stop him. All of his regulars had seen him in far worse condition - most of them had had to half carry him off the court more than once after a particularly gruelling practices.

"Genichirou is taking care of the rest of the club," Renji said neutrally, depositing him on the bench and handing him a water bottle. "The pre-regulars will stay with us for the ceremony and then we'll take them home in the second bus."

Seiichi nodded, pretending not to notice Akaya fidgeting next to him. The three of them had worked together for a long time - it was hard to say whether Renji or Sanada had made that decision and it was probably what he himself would have requested had he reached them sooner.

Returning the water bottle, he took the towel, pulled off his headband and wiped the sweat from his face, scarcely noticing Niou's long arm reaching down to pull Akaya back to the other regulars. Scarcely, but he did notice: he was their captain. It was his job to notice, his job to watch over them, train with them… and win for them. Any protest Akaya might have made was muffled quickly. It sounded to Seiichi like Bunta had given him gum. That was the most efficient way to do it, after all.

Face buried in the towel, it seemed only seconds before the officials were calling them over to line up and receive their medals. Sanada took one look at him, at the way Renji was hovering as if Seiichi were likely to collapse any moment, and stepped forward himself on behalf of Rikkai. That was right too. After all, it was Sanada who had brought them here, who had played every match and won in the finals. Seiichi had only played once and he'd lost.

It hurt to watch Tezuka take the flag.

Logically, he preferred Tezuka to Atobe - Tezuka had a _respect_ for the tennis and for the traditions of the tournament that Atobe didn't seem to have. Somehow that didn't stop the pang in his chest. He had only been vice-captain last year: this should have been his year.

Tezuka came over after they were dismissed, as the other teams dispersed to avoid coaches marshalling them onto buses. They looked at each other for a moment in silence before Tezuka reached out his hand. The grip was firm, the gaze steady, just as it had been back when they first faced each other. It had been a surprise to see him in Singles 3 - it seemed alien to Seiichi, the idea that Seigaku's captain didn't believe himself to be the strongest player on the team.

"Will you be playing in the All Stars?" Tezuka said after an uncomfortable silence. Some of the fierce look lingered on his face even this long after the end of his match.

"If I get the invitation," Seiichi said. He knew it was irrational to be concerned but the truth was that he _wasn't_ on his best form. It seemed much less certain that it had been in the previous two years. Last year, his place in that tournament had been all but guaranteed as the best player in the National winning squad. Tezuka had played Singles 3 and had lost. No, Tezuka was probably right to be confident. After all, his talent was well known and his match had been spectacular.

Tezuka gave him a flat look and nodded.

"I look forward to playing you there," he said and left them. Seiichi watched him go, then turned to the small group of regulars gathered behind him. Rikkai's team wouldn't dare vanish without his permission.

"Sanada, start getting the pre-regulars onto the bus. Renji, you'd better give the stands a last look over - one of them will have left something and we'll never hear the end of it if we leave without checking. The rest of you, are you coming back to school?"

"Niou-kun and I will make our own way back, if that's acceptable," Yagyuu said, glancing at his partner. Niou looked startled for a moment before he nodded. At Yukimura's nod, they excused themselves, Niou brushing past Yukimura with a hand that rested on his shoulder for a split second.

"My mum's picking me up," Akaya said, the scowl saying exactly what he thought of that idea. Seiichi felt a small smile touch his mouth as he waved Jackal and Bunta off after Sanada and led Akaya firmly into the stands.

Seiichi smiled politely at Kirihara-san, sparing a few brisk compliments for the way Akaya had played, walking them outside the stadium, reassuring her calmly that it was perfectly normal to send the opponent to hospital - accidents did happen, after all.

When he saw their car leave, he sagged against the outside of the stadium, energy suddenly deserting him. Tucked away in an alcove, he could let his guard down for a moment and pretend that he wasn't the captain, that he could just go and hide in one of the far courts until the crowds had cleared and he had regained his balance--

"Ready to leave?"

Seiichi's head jerked up and he shoved himself away from the wall, slightly dizzy from the sudden movement. Renji gave no sign of having seen his moment of weakness, standing there calmly with a racket bag hanging from each shoulder. Seiichi swallowed and brushed his fringe out of his eyes, stepping forwards to fall into step with his friend.

He took a double seat for himself on the way back, letting Sanada share with Renji. Captain's privilege.

* * * * * **  
**  
People scattered as Seiichi stalked through the school corridors towards the courts, tennis club members hastily pulling oblivious classmates out of the way. It was all very well for him to be asked to retire in order to prepare for his exams: he'd prepared himself for that months in advance. After all, it was best if Akaya had time to consolidate his position before the influx of first years.

It was certainly not okay for him to be asked to step down a full two weeks before any of the other third years because he apparently 'needed the extra time to catch up'. He had _responsibilities_. Sanada had had to take on enough of them as it was, as had Renji. The last one that Seiichi had hoped to hang on to was passing on the club to Akaya but he couldn't do that if he was leaving before Sanada.

The regulars were the only ones on the courts at that time. Sanada saw him coming from a good 400m away. Well, Seiichi assumed that he had, as suddenly most of them began a run around the school grounds, just leaving two of them by the courts.

"Yukimura?" Sanada asked, puzzled. He was probably justified. If Seiichi was being completely honest with himself, he'd been avoiding Sanada and to a lesser extent Renji since Nationals. They were the three regulars - the three _demons_ they'd been called - who had helped Rikkai to victory twice before. Two of them had been well on the way to a third time. He hadn't.

"I need a resignation form," Seiichi said flatly.

Sanada glanced at Renji, clearly confused by the request. The third years weren't expected to step down for another couple of weeks, and Seiichi himself wouldn't be this worked up if it was a non-regular being forced to resign for their misdeeds.

"One or seven?" Sanada asked warily. Seiichi couldn't blame him for being suspicious. It was possible that some teacher had decided to move things forward. After all, the school had a history of unfortunate bureaucratic mistakes - the uniforms, for example.

"Just. One," Seiichi ground out.

"I think you filed them last, Genichirou," Renji said, voice calm as ever. "Why don't you dig one out."

Sanada beat a hasty retreat. Seiichi let him go without objection, though he was tempted to call him back. Sanada was at least predictable. He had never been particularly adept at dealing with Seiichi when he was in a mood - his own temper tended to spark and, unwilling to actually argue back about tennis club matters, he'd stand there fuming while Seiichi worked himself to even greater heights. Renji's approach seemed to change each time.

"I take it school's telling you to step down," Renji said. Seiichi glared at him.

"Obviously."

"They're just worried about you, you know. You have missed a lot of work in the past few months."

"I'm not going to fail the year, Renji, and I need to be _here_. I have to teach Akaya to do paperwork, of all things, let alone the rest of it!"

"Genichirou and I can do that - we can have the others run practices while we deal with him. There's no need to push yourself - it's easy enough for us to make the time for it."

"You've done quite enough already," Seiichi snapped. He knew that he'd slacked off his duties as captain to a ridiculous degree; there was no need to remind him of it.

"Seiichi…"

He managed to stop himself from saying anything more insulting, clenched his teeth and half ran back into the main school building. After all, no one seemed to want him around.

He found the form in his locker the next morning, filled in for him. A note paper-clipped to it invited him to join the other regulars for tea at Bunta's house that evening.  
**  
*** * * * * *

It was strange going to Bunta's house on his own. Normally the team descended _en masse _after training. The others would most likely be doing that, though Seiichi had deliberately turned up early so as to have to time to settle himself and charm some cake from Bunta's mother.

He liked Bunta's house. It was welcoming - never silent, in the way that his own house was sometimes, and the smell of something fresh from the oven always seemed to drift through it. Flashing a brilliant smile at Marui-san, he stepped inside, ears picking up the sound of Bunta's brothers on the Playstation upstairs and the radio on in the kitchen.

"It's good to see you doing so well, Yukimura-kun," she said, encouraging him onto a chair in the kitchen and passing him a plate of biscuits, still warm, while she started to set out the rest of the food. She tended to press food on any of the regulars when they came to visit - presumably led by Bunta to believe that growing boys needed constant feeding. "It seems like a long time since you had a chance to come and visit."

"It's been a busy few weeks," Seiichi managed politely. He hadn't been there since the early days after his release from hospital, before he'd begun to play tennis. A lot had happened since then, most of it unpleasant. "I had a lot to catch up on before Nationals."

"And you're getting on at school okay?"

"Mm, I dropped out of tennis so I could catch up. I can play out of school, after all, and there are no more team tournaments to stay for."

"It must be nice to pass on the responsibility. I don't know how you managed to run things so well - the thought of Bunta in charge…"

Seiichi laughed. "I'm sure that if he had to, he'd manage fine," he said diplomatically. It might be true, after all. "We all deal with the pressure differently."

"Well, you make sure that you play some tennis just for fun," she scolded lightly. "You've been working too hard lately, I can tell. You're thinner than ever."

"I'll do my best," he said. He'd already started to plan the practice matches he'd need in preparation for the All Stars tournament. Maybe he'd take an afternoon off to play his sister sometime. She was doing well in the elementary school circuit and it was a while since he'd seen her play. If she took a game off him, he'd treat her to ice cream afterwards. Seiichi would just have to find somewhere where there wouldn't be any spectators. He'd heard what the coaches were saying about her and she certainly had the potential to make his life difficult. If he dropped points to her… well, most spectators wouldn't consider her potential before they began to tease him about it.

Marui-san had the timing of catering for so many boys down to a finer art than Seiichi had previously appreciated. The team hadn't yet arrived when she called her younger sons downstairs. They reminded him of Bunta: a quick glance around the kitchen and they homed in on the sweetest food set out - Seiichi's plate of biscuits - even though they were supposed to be starting with the savoury food.

Hastily vacating his seat, he swept the plate off the table, holding it high above his head, laughing as they jumped to try and pull his arm down. They wouldn't manage to - even now he knew his own strength. Marui-san turned from icing her cake to check he was managing and smiled at the picture, reassured that neither her guest nor her plate would come to any harm.

It was as she began setting the rest of the food out on the table that the regulars arrived. Seiichi heard them removing shoes and dumping tennis bags by the door before they poured into the room , Jackal and Bunta sweeping the younger boys into seats at the far end of the table with long-practised ease, Renji ushering Akaya down after them. Yagyuu was over by the counter, helping Marui-san pull plates from the cupboards.

Seiichi turned to see Niou's wink as he reached up to steal a biscuit from the plate. Sanada lifted the plate from his hands and returned it to the counter, frowning at Niou. Seiichi smiled impishly. Perhaps he shouldn't own up to having had a few himself.

In minutes, the quiet of the kitchen had given way to a constant thrum of conversation. Claiming a chair for himself, Seiichi in turn reached to sweep Sanada's cap off his head, tossing it across the table to Renji. The glare he received was more resigned than annoyed, as was the swat aimed at Bunta's head when he dared to snicker.

"Fukubuchou's a slavedriver," Akaya announced, safely seated on the other side of the table from both Sanada and Seiichi.

"Really?" Seiichi asked, his voice carefully light, though he had a fair idea of why. After all, this was what he should have been doing all afternoon, not Sanada.

"He made me spend all of practice filling in forms! Forms - and I could have been playing tennis!"

"Paperwork's an important part of being captain," Seiichi said, taking a stack of cups from Yagyuu and passing them on.

"But you never do any paperwork."

Seiichi's smile faded slightly; he forced it back to its previous brilliance and leaned forward as if confiding a secret, hiding his doubts behind the familiar jokes and banter.

"That's because I chose an excellent vice captain. Another important skill for a captain to have is delegation. I think you'll pick that one up remarkably fast."

Akaya's eyes were wide.

"But fukubuchou always did the paperwork himself, even when you were in hospital."

"Genichirou was never that good at delegation," Renji said, inserting himself into the conversation with a quick glance at Seiichi. "I forgot to ask you earlier how your English lesson was today, Akaya."

"Are you sure I can't get out of English, buchou? It doesn't make sense! They teach you that something sounds like this, and then the next day they change their mind and the spelling is _weird_ and doesn't look anything like what I see on the internet and…"

Seiichi, knowing that question didn't really expect an answer, dropped his attention to his plate. He could almost feel the weight of Renji's eyes on him. Maybe he was suddenly a little too cheerful but the others seemed reassured by it and was something of a relief just to be one of the crowd again.

After dinner, they scattered around the house, lingering there for a while by mutual consent. A couple of them would be going home to empty homes but most were honestly just procrastinating. It was strange to think that they'd be high school students in a few months time.

He himself lingered in the kitchen, listening to the thuds upstairs as Bunta dragged Akaya and Jackal to reclaim the Playstation. Niou and Yagyuu were unpacking their books on the kitchen table and after a moment Sanada moved to join them. They always had taken their academic work seriously but as the exams approached the intensity only increased. Renji hesitated in his seat, as if he were about to join them, before standing up with a sidways glance at Seiichi and replacing Sanada's hat on his head.

Seiichi chuckled. It was on backwards and the disgruntled look Sanada threw at Renji made him suddenly appear to be the hot-tempered eleven year old that he'd first played. Seiichi had always been comfortable around Sanada - they didn't need to talk much about anything outside of tennis: he just understood. Renji had always wanted to know _why_ and not just how.

He allowed Renji to draw him out into the hallway without protest.

"How are you doing, Seiichi?" Renji asked as they slipped on their trainers and stepped out into the garden. "It does seem like we haven't stopped for even a moment in months."

"Well enough," Seiichi said, his voice optimistic. "I've started training at the club near Sanada's house for the All Stars tournament, getting properly match-fit and the like. I haven't yet got the official notice but hopefully I'll have the details in the next week or so. I'll probably stop by the high school training sometime next week and see if I can set up some practice matches - it's been a while since I played a multiple-set match… Was there something out here that you wanted to show me in particular?"

Renji stopped and looked at him. Seiichi's cheerful façade faltered and he hung on to it through sheer force of will.

"You're remarkably calm, given your mood yesterday," Renji said. Seiichi squashed his conflicting emotions, eyes darting to scan the windows for any potential eavesdroppers. Renji was smiling too but it was a small, sad smile that seemed more resigned than anything else.

"Well, it's not like I can change anything, is it?" Seiichi had given up being bitter about anything the school could throw at him long before they'd replaced the red uniforms he'd been so proud of. "It does give me more time to train for the tournament, so it's not all bad."

"If you cared that much about the tournament, you'd still be training now. I've seen you when you're that dedicated and socialising at Bunta's house never came into the equation."

There was a long silence. Seiichi bent to examine the pattern of the planting in the beds - it wasn't quite as random as he'd originally thought and focusing on seeing the design gave him something to think about.

"Sanada and I both lost at Kantou. We lost, we came back from that and we came back stronger," Renji said quietly. He reached out and squeezed Seiichi's shoulder. "If you're trying to protect us by appearing cheerful, it's not working. We've seen you at your worst. Do you honestly think you can shock us now?"

"Maybe not." Seiichi was painfully aware that his smile was decidedly lopsided.

"You don't need to be the tennis prodigy around your friends. Or be the captain, for that matter. Besides," Renji said, mouth quirking up as he turned to head back inside, "That smile of yours is starting to scare Akaya. I think it's even bothering him more than the paperwork. I'll let the others know that you headed home to study. You probably want some time to think now."

Seiichi watched him vanish inside. Was it really that obvious he didn't know what he was doing? His own parents hadn't seemed to notice any kind of problem and if _Akaya_ had noticed what was up, Seiichi would volunteer to do the paperwork for a month without even trying to talk Renji into helping him.

Still, it would look strange if he showed up inside again now. Maybe it would be better to head home. He was supposed to be studying, after all. If Renji was annoyed at him, it would be better to bury himself in work for a bit and let things calm down a bit.

That probably meant no loitering at school to watch them training out of the classroom windows. Sanada was in charge now, they didn't need him to supervise.

* * * * * *

Seiichi was down at the street courts when he saw Renji coming up beside him out of the corner of his eye.

"I've worked out why I lost," he said, not even turning to acknowledge Renji's presence. He heard Renji sitting down beside him, his racket bag dropped on the floor by Seiichi's.

Seiichi had been avoiding his team for over a week, confident that he was no longer needed to keep them grounded and focused. The street courts were a good place to think, so long as he chose not to wear the Rikkai uniform and tucked himself out of the way where no one was likely to spot and challenge him. There was a pause while they watched the next point played out in front of them. The courts were quiet today but there were a few decent players around.

"I should probably take partial responsibility for that," Renji said at last. "I forgot to consider how long it had been since you'd played a competitive match. Really, we should have put you on the lineup in some of the earlier rounds - even if you weren't back on form, you would have won your match."

Seiichi's head turned slightly. He hadn't expected that. A tennis match was one-on-one. Even a team match came down to that pattern. Each player faced whoever was sent against them, each player went with the intention of winning. If he had lost, it was because he hadn't met the challenge, not because of his Renji's mistake. There simply wasn't a foolsafe way of predicting the lineup. That was how it had always been.

He forced his eyes forward again. If Renji was going to insist on a deep and meaningful discussion, it was going to be much easier if he didn't meet his eyes while doing so.

"As for your match against Echizen—" Renji began. Seiichi cut him off.

"Sanada's loss was because he was distracted, Atobe was thrown by Echizen using one of Tezuka's moves. I've seen the tapes you had people take of those matches and it was clear enough. I don't have an excuse. Maybe I could have won if I'd managed to reach Muga no Kyouchi. As it was, I reached for it and couldn't quite get there."

"I did wonder why you didn't use it. I know that Genichirou doesn't like using it but you were always quite comfortable."

Seiichi remembered that too. Once upon a time, he'd teased Sanada for being scared to let loose his control. It didn't seem so funny any more. It was hard to give up even the smallest bit of control over his limbs now, after all the work he'd had to do to regain it.

"Muga no Kyouchi - there's only one reason why you stop being able to use it once you know how. It's clear enough, now that I think about it. I was too scared to use it. When I saw that brat reaching for the third door…"

"Scared of what?" Renji's voice was soft. Down on the court below, a boy whooped as a smash bounced just in.

"Of losing, I suppose," he said and made himself laugh in an effort to lighten the mood. "Sanada would probably tell me to grow a backbone and start working to avenge my loss. He's probably right, actually. Still, I'd better get going. I was intending to do some work in the garden today."

For a moment, it seemed as if Renji was going to let him go. Seiichi reached down to grab the strap of his bag, gripping it uncharacteristically tightly. It had been difficult to talk about that match but Renji deserved to know, since it had been Seiichi's defeat that led to the team loss, and at least he could be trusted not to spread it around.

"Play a match with me," Renji said suddenly, catching Seiichi's wrist before he could move away.

"Now?" It was true that they had their rackets and were dressed for tennis but Rikkai didn't make a habit of playing at the street courts, preferring to use the school courts or the local tennis club.

"Best of three sets, here and now, unless you're scared to take me on with an audience."

Seiichi turned to look at him in the face for the first time, face flushed red.

"And Seiichi," Renji said. His voice had taken over the measuring tone that always preceded a serious match, "I want you to go all out."

Seiichi nodded, starting to feel his heart rate increasing already. They hadn't played each other in a serious match for months. Back then, before Seiichi's collapse, Renji hadn't been able to cope with Seiichi going full throttle. Now, though, he just might be able to.

They were both still warm - Renji had come straight from practice and Seiichi had jogged on the way down, having half-intended to find some kid to play who'd never heard of Rikkai's captain - so they stepped immediately onto the first vacated court. A small crowd quickly gathered around them. Seiichi himself was a well known figure among the region's tennis players and Renji was wearing the distinctive yellow uniform.

Seiichi's first serve was tentative. He hadn't played a proper opponent since the Nationals and, standing on the cracked concrete of the street court, that seemed a long, long time ago.

The ball was returned to the corner with pinpoint accuracy. Seiichi watched it pass well out of his reach, swallowed and pulled a second ball from his pocket.

"Love-fifteen," came the call from beside the net. Someone had clearly volunteered himself as umpire. It didn't matter to Seiichi - keeping score came as naturally as a simple forehand, burned into his brain by the years of endless practice.

"Come on, Seiichi," Renji said, stepping in from the baseline. Seiichi's eyes narrowed. Coming that far forward on his first serve was either a calculated insult or telling him that he was in worse condition than he'd thought. He didn't think he was _that_ weak.

Seiichi gripped the ball tightly, took a deep breath, tossed it and arched back into the serve. It flew across the net, skimming across the service line and flying past Renji's racket.

"Fifteen all."

Renji was smiling. Seiichi could feel a fierce smile spreading across his own face as he served again, darting towards the net to cut off the return with a volley. Renji had improved. He was adjusting faster to the speed and weight of Seiichi's shots, anticipating them with the unnerving accuracy that had always characterised his game.

Seiichi took the first game to 30. Renji's look was measuring as they paused to collect the balls. It was a look that Seiichi knew well, though it was rare to see it outside of a National level doubles match. Renji fully intended to win this match, there was no doubt about that.

Renji's serve was as consistently good as ever, he'd seen that at Nationals. At the same time, it didn't have the pace of Inui's, the perfect lefty slice of Tezuka's or the twist of Echizen's. It was predictable. Returnable. Seiichi moved to meet it early, taking it on the rise and powering it out Renji's backhand corner.

Seiichi was vaguely aware of the matches on the other courts stopping as the players gathered around his court. The audience wasn't important.

There was a long pause before Renji served again. When it came, Seiichi's eyes widened as he twisted awkwardly to return a heavy body-serve almost as vicious as Akaya's. Yes, there was no doubt that Renji was completely serious.

Renji held serve. One game all.

Slowly, carefully, Seiichi lifted his level. His training regime prior to Nationals had been brutal but it had worked. His control was near its previous level already, the fitness was getting there. Renji matched him stroke for stroke. Whatever Sanada had been doing, Renji was if nothing else a better singles player than before. He covered the court easily, there was no longer the split-second hesitation while he recalled that he was alone on court.

At three games all, the brakes came off completely and Seiichi stepped up his game to it's full speed. Renji had wanted to play him at his best, now they would see if he had done enough not to wash out.

Renji could see the change, Seiichi could tell, though he doubted anyone else had noticed. The speed, the spin… suddenly Renji was no longer seemed to be in possession of the time he needed. He was breathing heavily, stretching for the wide balls.

Seiichi took the set, six games to three.

They paused after the set to get a drink, sitting side by side on the bench.

"You're not playing all-out yet," Renji said as they got up to return to the court.

Seiichi's smile had faded, replaced by intent concentration as the intensity of the match grew. He was just getting into his rhythm. It remained to be seen whether the break had allowed Renji to regain his.

"I know," he said, voice as challenging as Renji's movements. Renji had improved since Seiichi had left. The question was by how much he had raised his game. Up until now, Sanada was the only player from Rikkai who had taken him to that level beyond himself. "Make me."

Renji held serve.

The look that he sent across the net was a clear challenge. As Seiichi picked up the ball, looking across the net at his opponent, he reached inside himself for the shift in focus that would lift him beyond his limits. Their eyes met and Seiichi's mind cleared, body moving almost of its own accord.

Almost, but not quite. Something had changed. Suddenly he had control of the burst of energy and he clung to that control.

It might be a different kind of Muga, but it was no less effective. It was as though Renji had suddenly come up against a brick wall: a very fast, very strong brick wall with an uncanny instinct for reading his moves.

Seiichi floated through the set, his body feeling light and his energy limitless, a sharp contrast to Renji's exhaustion. The end, when it came, seemed inevitable.

"G-game, set and match Yukimura," came the shaky call from the courtside as Seiichi came back to himself. "6-3, 6-0."

When they shook hands at the net, Renji didn't look like someone who had lost. He looked satisfied.

"I'll let Nishiki-san know that you'll stop by tomorrow," he said. "If you're going to do this tournament, it's about time to step up your training."

"Rikkai's captain has to do well," Seiichi agreed, almost without thinking. "It comes with the job description."

Renji's sweaty hand squeezed his slightly and let go.

"Rikkai's captain is a thing of the past now. How does Junior Number 1 sound to you?"

Seiichi laughed, head feeling clearer than it had for a long time.

"I don't know 'til I try now, do I?"

"That second set…" Renji said. "Was that Muga no Kyouchi or something else? I've never seen you play like that before."

Seiichi paused, trying to put it into words.

"It's the difference between between losing control completely and giving control to a different part of my brain," he tried and laughed. "No, I'm not making sense. I'll have to think about how to describe it."

"I can wait. Whether you can put it into words or not, you're going to give a lot of people quite a surprise at the All Stars."

Yes, the All Stars came next, then he'd be back in training with his team and fighting for his place on the high school team. Renji would no doubt be right alongside him, particularly if he was playing like that - or most likely better - in doubles.

Maybe he should have remembered before that tennis was a game for two. To play his best, he needed an opponent who could push him all the way. The team would be interesting next year. It was a very good thing that the older players knew what was about to hit them.

Renji was right. They'd conquered the junior high circuit. It was time for a new target.


End file.
